


The Haunting of Cisco Ramon

by Kariki



Series: 13 Nights of Hartmon (Kind of) [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 13 Nights of Hartmon, Cisco's powers work a bit differently here, Ghosts, Haunting, M/M, Murder, alternative universe, psychic character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-08-27 08:59:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8395528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kariki/pseuds/Kariki
Summary: (Written for 13 Nights of Hartmon, Prompt: Ghost)
Cisco never thought he'd see his jerk of a coworker ever again... until his ghost appeared in front of him in the lab one night.  Determined to help him cross over, Cisco starts looking into who murdered Hartley Rathaway.





	1. Chapter 1 - Cisco

**Author's Note:**

> This is a day late. Oops.

Cisco was, first and foremost, a man of science. He believed things had explanations, that there were reasons for why things happened. While he didn’t deny the possibility that there were things science couldn’t explain (yet), ghosts were firmly in the ‘yeah, right’ category.

And yet the footsteps persisted.

The sound was faint, barely audible really, but the footsteps might as well have been thunder for how clearly Cisco could hear them. They paced around the room, moving behind him then in front of him, watching him work. Every so often, a soft muttering accompanied the steps, as though someone was stage whispering in the next room, too faint to make out the words but still a voice.

No one else heard them, no one else saw the shimmering shadows out of the corner of their eyes, no one else but Cisco felt like they were being watched.

Caitlin thought he was stressed out and tired, seeing and hearing things after working too long into the night.

“It’s not uncommon for people to see and hear things when they’re tired,” she had told him, trying to be sympathetic. “Just go home and get some well deserved rest, Cisco. You’ve been working harder than any of us lately.”

Cisco had promised her he’d turn in early tonight, that he wouldn’t stay in the Labs until three in the morning like he had been doing for the last week, but it was creeping toward four in the morning now.

The footsteps continued.

Cisco tightened his grip on the small screwdriver and stared, almost pointedly, down at the inner workings of the small, gutted device. At the moment, he couldn’t have been able to tell you what the device even was or what it was meant to do, all he could think about was the soft _pat pat pat_ as the footsteps all but circled him.

 _There’s nothing there,_ Cisco told himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, _I’m just tired, like Caitlin said. Just finish up and I can go home. Maybe call in sick tomorrow and just sleep. I’m not going crazy…”_

“Sloppy.” Cisco froze as the word drifted to him, soft but crystal clear in the quiet room. The single whisper of a word was scoffed, dripping with distaste. “How can he even tell what he’s doing?”

A freaking ghost that doesn’t freaking exist was freaking judging his work!

“He’s not even using a —”

“Hey!” Cisco’s eyes snapped open and he looked up toward where the sound came from. “Do you mind…”

When he looked up, he hadn’t expect to actually _see_ anyone there. 

Blue eyes blinked in surprise behind thick framed glasses. The other man took a step back, shock clear on his face, his crossed arms dropping down to his sides.

Cisco stared, his mouth falling open.

He had never expected to see Hartley Rathaway ever again, not since he left STAR Labs a year ago, but he certainly never thought he’d see him looking like this. The other’s usually immaculate appearance was gone; his hair was matted and dirty, the right lens of his glasses were cracked, his clothes were disheveled and… was that blood on his chest?

Most alarming was the fact he could see the computer monitors behind him… through him.

“H-Hartley?”

“You can see me?” His voice echoed but Cisco could understand it. Hartley took a step forward, his eyes blown wide, shock and the beginnings of a smile on his face. “You can hear me?”

“Y-yeah,” Cisco stared, looking Hartley over. This was… this was so not what it looked like. “How are you doing that?” 

“What?” Hartley’s smile faded. 

“Going all… all…” Cisco waved a hand at him, “see through.”

Hartley looked down at himself, all excitement and wonder leaving him before he looked up at Cisco again. 

“I-I’m dead,” Hartley said, his voice wavering just a bit at the word. “I died a year… a year ago. I haven’t been able to leave STAR Labs ever since and believe me, I’ve tried to,” he shook his head, his eyes flickering around at the surrounding cortex. “As soon as I step out of the building, I just reappear in the lobby. You’re the first person to see me in… in months.”

Cisco stared at him. He could see the screensaver on the monitor behind Hartley, the image not obscured in any way. Cisco licked his lips.

“No,” Cisco shook his head, “No, you’re not going to trick me, Rathaway.”

Hartley looked back at Cisco, blinking in surprise.

“What is it, really?” Cisco continued, crossing his arms. “Did you, what, make some invisibility ray or cloak or something? Get stuck like that?” Cisco scoffed, turning his gaze down to the device strewn out on his table. He unfolded his arms and began grabbing tools and shoving them into the toolbox beside him, ignoring how his fingers wanted to tremble. “What, you’re trying to spy on us or something? Un-fucking-believable.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Hartley huffed but there was no venom in the words, “I’m not lying, Cisco.”

Cisco glanced up, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. Hartley stood there, watching him, his hand gripped into fists at his side. They were shaking.

“Yeah, okay, maybe not an invention,” Cisco looked up, leaning forward on the worktable, his hands on either side of the dismantled device. There had to be some explanation, something other than ghosts, something other than Hartley being… being… “Maybe you’re a meta, is that it? With some creepy invisibility power or something? I can’t fucking believe you, you know that - woah.”

Hartley closed the distance between them, moving the four feet in an instant. He reached out and grabbed at Cisco’s shoulders. The hands didn’t make contact, passing through Cisco’s flesh, but Cisco still felt like his blood had turned to ice. He stumbled back with a muttered curse.

Hartley stayed where he was, standing inside of the worktable now. He lowered his eyes and slowly let his hands fall back to his side.

“I’m dead, Cisco,” Hartley said again, his voice as dead as he claimed to be. 

Cisco opened his mouth, closed it again. His shoulders still felt cold, the whole room felt cold. He stared at Hartley, taking in his gray skin, the dirt, the blood, at the space behind him, at the desk through him, at everything.

_You can see me? You can hear me? I died a year ago. I haven’t been able to leave._

Cisco swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

“How?” he asked, his voice as soft as the footsteps that had been haunting him for weeks. “How did you… how did you die?”

A glimmer of hope entered Hartley’s face though he looked no less devastated for it.

“I don’t remember much, it happened so fast.” Hartley wrapped his arms around himself, hiding the hole in his chest. 

“W-what happened, Hartley?” Cisco asked, his voice cracking.

“There was a man in yellow,” Hartley frowned, his brows furrowed. “There was lightening and then his… his hand was in my chest.”

_Damn_


	2. Chapter 2 - Hartley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Figures,” Cisco scoffed, “Barry gets superspeed and I get to talk to smartass ghosts.”

The parking lot stretched out in front of him, emptier than he had ever seen it when he was alive and clearer than he had ever see it since he died. It looked appropriately haunting with its lack of cars and life beyond.

Hartley swallowed hard as he stared out the front doors and at Cisco, just a few yards ahead of him.

This wasn’t the first time he had stood in this place after his death. After he had first ‘woken’ up after his death, once he was actually _there_ enough to do it, he had tried to leave STAR Labs. He had stood in this very spot and had taken a step forward only to have not moved at all. He didn’t know how many times he had tried to walk out this very door but he got the message loud and clear.

He wasn’t allowed to leave.

But this was different.

Before, everything was fuzzy, almost misty, like he was somehow out of sync with everything around him… but it was clearer now. Everything was in sharp focus, everything was actually _there_ now. _He_ was actually there now…

Would that be enough?

If he took this last step out of the door, would he finally be out in the night air or would he appear where he was now, forced to stay here for the rest of whatever this existence was.

“Hartley?” Cisco had finally stopped at the foot of the short flight of stairs and was staring back at him.

He actually looked worried.

Hartley stared back down at him. He licked his lips nervously though his lips couldn’t dry out anymore.

“I don’t know if I can…” Hartley cleared his throat. “I don’t know if I can leave. I-I’ve tried before but I always… I always end up back here.” He gestured to the lobby around him. “I just appear back here in the lobby, like I never left.”

Cisco stared up at him then back out across the lot then back to him. His brows furrowed and he bit his lip, clearly torn about something. 

“I… I’ll be back tomorrow,” Cisco finally said, turning to look up at Hartley. He smiled in a way that was meant to be reassuring. 

Hartley was not reassured.

“No!” The word burst out of Hartley’s mouth before he could stop himself.

He didn’t know what was different about tonight, why he was just so suddenly here and why Cisco could see and hear him now. Was it something about himself? Something about that night? Or was it Cisco?

He didn’t want to be separated from one of those factors, just in case. 

He didn’t want to go back to the fog and there-not-thereness.

“We… we can figure out what to do tomorrow,” Cisco said, worry clear on his face now. 

“I might not have tomorrow!” Hartley blurted out, gripping his hands into fists. He looked around him, at the silent and dusty lobby around him, at the door that was all but locking him in. He had spent so many nights wandering the halls, barely there and barely aware of anything. 

He might not have tomorrow and who knew how long this fluke of pseudo-existence would last?

He didn’t want this to stop, he didn’t want to go back to that that wandering existence that wasn’t really existence. He wanted to be seen and heard, to be acknowledge… to be real.

If he just appeared back in the lobby, then what did it matter? He would be disappointed and upset but that was his existence now. 

All he had going for him right now was the ‘what if’.

Hartley closed his eyes and stepped forward.

Nothing seemed to happen.

He slowly opened his eyes.

Cisco stared at him from the bottom of the stairs.

Hartley turned and looked at the door behind him.

He looked back down at Cisco, unable to stop the wide, ecstatic smile spreading across his face.

He didn’t know what was keeping him here, if it was something different about himself, about the night, or about Cisco but whatever it was, he wanted it to stay for as long as possible.

He walked down the steps, slowly, one at a time, and just _looked_.

The outside was different from what he remembered, more graffiti for one thing, but he imagined the night felt cool and the air fresher than anything he’d have felt in months. 

If he could feel.

“I guess you’re coming with me?” Cisco asked, a bit bemused as Hartley looked around him.

“Do you mind?”

Cisco tilted his head, watching Hartley’s transparent, bloody form.

“Well, I always wanted to be haunted,” Cisco commented dryly. “Be careful what you wish for, I guess.”

* * *

Cisco’s apartment both looked exactly how he expected and nothing like he expected.

The books, comics, and collectible toys were prominently displayed alongside various scientific texts, that had been expected. The fact that the placed looked well taken care of - clean and orderly - was a bit more surprising… though a lot of the furniture looked mismatched, at best.

“Why do you look so surprised?” Cisco asked, hanging up his coat by the door. He looked vaguely offended.

Hartley forced his face to a more neutral expression.

“Sorry. It looks… nice.”

“Thanks,” Cisco rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I was thinking on the walk over here.”

“About?” Hartley followed Cisco as the other man made his way through the apartment, toward the nice, open concept kitchen.

“Like, maybe it’s like on Supernatural,” Cisco said, grabbing his electric kettle and filling it with water before setting it back on the station to let to start heating up. “Uh, Supernatural is a TV show about -”

“I’ve seen it,” Hartley interrupted him, watching him as he moved around the kitchen, gathering mugs and a box of tea bags. Cisco stopped to look over at him. “I do watch… I did watch television, Cisco.”

Cisco winced.

“Right, sorry.” He set the mugs down on the counter and put a tea bag in each. “But like, on the show, ghosts get stronger with time, you know? Maybe you finally got strong enough to… be seen, I guess?”

“Maybe,” Hartley frowned, staring at the mugs. “It doesn’t feel that way though. They also eventually went insane long before then.” He shook his head. “No, it felt more like… like I wasn’t actually here. Everything was foggy or out of focus. I would blur in and out and sometimes weeks would pass between being here and not being anywhere.”

Cisco frowned as well.

“I don’t know what happened tonight,” Hartley admitted with a sigh, crossing his arms over the hole in his chest. “Something changed and I don’t… I don’t know what. I just know you might be a part of that and… and I don’t want to risk… leaving and not coming back.”

Cisco looked up at Hartley, eyes widening then softening in understanding.

“Yeah, I get that,” he nodded. “I actually… for a few days anyway, I thought I was hearing stuff, you know? Footsteps, hearing someone talking but no one was there. Typical haunted house stuff. Then you show up like… like this.”

Hartley frowned.

“Then… it might be you,” he said slowly, carefully. “If this started happening a few nights ago and only to you…”

Cisco stared at Hartley for a moment, eyes widening as the words sunk in.

“So I, what, might be a psychic now?”

Hartley wrinkled his nose.

“I suppose that’s accurate.”

“…Why now though?” Cisco asked, turning back to the kettle once it beeped at him. “I mean, you’ve been… like that… for almost a year, right? Why now?”

“Perhaps your powers are getting stronger?” Hartley theorized, watching as Cisco poured water over the tea bags. “It could be a combination. I was faded out for so long and your powers weren’t strong enough to bring me into focus until tonight?”

“Maybe,” Cisco nodded, smiling as he set the mug in front of Hartley. He was grinning. “So, really, I’m like a psychic now?”

“From what I understand of the aftereffects of the Particle Accelerator explosion, it is a distinct possibility,” Hartley stared down at the brown water in the mug. Steam rose off of it enticingly. “The Metahumans were created by the explosion, most of them being caught in it. You were in the building, Cisco, closer than most other Metas out there. It’s very possible.”

“Woah,” Cisco shook his head, eyes still wide. “I never really thought about that… There were quite a few people in the building, actually, and outside it, but a lot of the metahumans we’ve found weren’t anywhere near as close. You think we should run tests on ourselves? See if anything comes up… Hartley?”

Hartley had reached for his mug, tentatively running his fingers through the looped handle. The tea didn’t so much as ripple. He looked up from his mug of tea and at Cisco. 

Cisco looked at Hartley then down at the mug in front of him. Hartley saw the moment realization sunk in as Cisco’s eyes widened.

“Sorry,” Cisco said, a look of shame crossing his face as he reached for the useless mug of tea and set it aside. “I wasn’t thinking…”

“I appreciate the gesture anyway.”

Cisco nodded. He looked down at his own tea for a moment before he set it aside as well.

“So, uh, d-do you think I have to help you somehow?” Cisco asked, any joy he had had a moment before at finding out he very likely had powers had been swept aside as the gravity of the situation reasserted itself.

“Well, I would hope so,” Hartley commented dryly.

“No, I mean like… do I help you crossover or something?” Cisco asked, his face scrunching up as he thought. “Like, do I have to find out what happened to you? Find your killer or your body or something?”

Hartley frowned.

In the many months of his non-existence, he hadn’t really given much thought about that. He hadn’t had much room for thought at all. His mind latched onto Cisco’s words now though.

“They… they haven’t found my body?” he asked. 

It made sense, given Cisco’s reaction to seeing him earlier that night. He wouldn’t have accused Hartley of trying to fool him if he already knew he was dead.

Cisco didn’t say anything, just shook his head as he looked own at the pattern on his kitchen counter.

Hartley felt a sickening feeling in his stomach.

“Cisco is… is there anyone looking for me?” he asked slowly, dreading the answer. “Does anyone… anyone know I’m… gone? That I was missing?”

Cisco continued to stare down at the counter.

“I… I haven’t heard anything,” he admitted after a moment. “Of course, I never really paid much attention to you after you left. 

Hartley stared at Cisco for a moment, letting a familiar cold feeling wash over him before he pushed it aside. He swallowed hard. He didn’t know how much emotion he could actually express in this form but he didn’t want to find out in front of Cisco, of all people, even if he was helping him.

“I don’t care,” Hartley said after a moment, his voice oddly rough now. “I don’t care about finding my body. It won’t change anything and it clearly won’t bring anyone any peace.” 

Cisco winced at that.

“I do want to know who killed me though… I want to know that, at least.”

“I’ll do both,” Cisco announced, finally looked up at Hartley, an odd determination in his dark eyes. “I’ll find where you… where you are and I’ll find out who did this to you. I won’t let them get away with it.”

“There’s no point in finding my body,” Hartley reiterated, snapping the words out. “No one mourned before, no one will mourn now. Just find the bastard. If anything will help me, that will.”

Cisco nodded, rolling his shoulders back.

“I will, Hartley,” he promised. “And I’m still going to do both. If not for you then for myself and everyone else who should have… who should have noticed. I’m so sorry we didn’t but I swear to you, I’m going to do everything I can to make this right.”

Hartley looked at him for a moment, frowning still.

“Fine… but Cisco?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you… keep this from your friends?” he asked, not meeting Cisco’s gaze now. “I don’t… I don’t know if they’ll even be able to see me and… I don’t think I’m ready. For people to know, I mean.”

He smiled slightly.

“Besides, they’re likely to think you’re crazy.”

“Figures,” Cisco scoffed, “Barry gets superspeed and I get to talk to smartass ghosts.”

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't finished, obviously, but I ran out of time and wanted to get SOMETHING up. I plan to do two more prompts for this challenge and when they're up (they shouldn't be as long as this), I'll wrap this up.


End file.
